


Like Real People Do

by Invictusimpala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Castiel in the Bunker, Comforting Sam, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Human Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 12:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3208409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Invictusimpala/pseuds/Invictusimpala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s going to be stuck like this, scarred, ugly, <em>human</em> for the rest of his mortal life that ends in an inevitable death that could be tomorrow, or in seventy years. He doesn't think he'll be able to wait that long. Hours are longer, time ticks slower, and he's stuck in one place now with no chance of leaving.<br/>There’s no one in the world who could possibly want him now, and he stares at his hands until his eyes hurt.<br/>“I do,” he hears a voice say, but he doesn’t have the energy to see who said it, or the presence of mind to realize he said that out loud.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Real People Do

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt I received on my tumblr. Thank you so much for reading, enjoy :)

Castiel sits in his room alone, with the lights dimmed, his shirt tossed somewhere to the left of him. He traces the scars down his arms, the ones that arch down his chest to settle just under the waistband of Sam’s sweatpants he’s wearing. Maybe they're Dean's, he doesn't recall which brother he stole them from.

Both Dean and his brother are out on a hunt, but Castiel stays home.

These last few weeks he’s had no choice but to stay at the bunker alone while his wounds heal. While he makes a good angel, great even, he most definitely does not make any sort of human, good, bad, nothing. He just simply wasn’t meant to be one ever, and it makes his skin crawl being confined to one body, makes his skin burn, a phantom pain shooting through his system every few seconds as he stares at his healed wounds that once were.

The largest of them are on his back, the burned skin that still aches when he lays on it for too long. The remnants of what his wings once were imprinted in his skin as an eternal reminder of what he did, what’s he’s doing -- working with the humans against angels, working with humans and being one of them.

He holds his head in his hands. He hasn’t been sleeping, plagued with too many memories to ever dream soundly again, and nothing Dean or Sam have done has helped, and he fears that nothing either of them can do will ever be able to help him now.

He’s going to be stuck like this, scarred, ugly, _human_ for the rest of his mortal life that ends in an inevitable death that could be tomorrow, or in seventy years. He doesn't think he'll be able to wait that long.

Hours are longer, time ticks slower, and he's stuck in one place now with no chance of leaving.

There’s no one in the world who could possibly want him now, and he stares at his hands until his eyes hurt.

“I do,” he hears a voice say, but he doesn’t have the energy to see who said it, or the presence of mind to realize he said that out loud.

Sam kneels in front of him and holds Castiel’s smaller, colder hands in his large, calloused, warm ones. He rubs their skin together, and Cas knows he’s offering a small form of comfort he appreciates, but it’s not what he needs.

Sam kisses each of his fingertips slowly, taking his time, not rushing a single movement.

Castiel watches him intently.

He moves onto Castiel’s wrists and arms that are littered with scars, large and deep, scabbed and small, all different sizes and shapes, some jagged and some straight lines.

Sam doesn’t speak until he has Cas on his back and has moved to his chest.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks quietly. Castiel shakes his head, and Sam continues with a happy hum. “You’re not perfect, Cas, so don’t expect yourself to be.”

“But I --”

“You make a great human, and I would be happy to help you if you’ll let me in, or Dean, just let us help you, please. I hate seeing you in so much pain.”

“Sam,” Castiel breathes, and then their lips are sliding together chastely, nothing more than a brush against each other, but it’s enough to set him off.

He wraps his arms around Sam and hugs him tight, clings to the hunter above him. The more Sam touches him, just the pass of scars against scars, the less they hurt.

The burden on his shoulders is lifted, and he breathes a little easier with each inhale of Sam’s scent, his smell still sweaty from the hunt, and absolutely, one hundred percent _Sam_.

“Thank you,” Castiel murmurs, and Sam turns them so they can lay closer and more comfortably.

“Can I stay here tonight? I have some tea that makes you sleepy, and we could share some. I know I always feel better with a warm cup and another warm body to share.”

“I’d like that.”

That night Castiel sleeps soundly for the first time in months. When he wakes it’s to Sam kissing him deeply, and for once, even if it’s just for a split second, he’s happy to be human.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from _Like Real People Do_ by Hozier  
> [My Tumblr](http://www.invictus-impala.tumblr.com)  
>  I am taking prompts there, if you're interested :)  
> (More info on that [here](http://www.invictus-impala.tumblr.com/post/99871679299/im-taking-prompts-now-yay-if-you))


End file.
